


The sons of Last Dragon

by Cargen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen Live, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Aegon Targaryen, BAMF Jon Snow, Don't Like Don't Read, Elia Martell Lives, F/M, Fluff, Fuck S8, Gen, Incest, Jaime Lannister remains loyal to the Targaryens, Jon Arryn Lives, Lyanna Stark Lives, Magic, No Littlefinger, OOC, Powerful North, R Plus L Equals J, Robert's children are trueborn, Romance, Smut, So it won't be as you think, Stark twincest, Tags Will Be Updated if I Continue This, There are no cool gossip and intrigue like in GOT, Twincest, Underage - Freeform, Varys knows nothing, Warg Starks (ASoIaF), fuck D&D
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26989696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cargen/pseuds/Cargen
Summary: AU where Rhaegar's children survived and grew up together as brothers in Essos. Where with them were Lyanna and Elia and white cloaks. And Ned will marry Ashara.Read the tags carefully. I'll come up with a more beautiful description later.
Relationships: Aegon VI Targaryen (Son of Elia)/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Arthur Dayne/Elia Martell, Ashara Dayne/Ned Stark, Elia Martell & Lyanna Stark, Jon Snow & Aegon VI Targaryen, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Comments: 36
Kudos: 100





	1. The rescue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in my life) This idea has been in my head for a long time. First I looked for an AU similar to mine, but did not find it. So I decided to write myself and start my writing with this gic.  
> P.S. English is only a third language for me, so it's hard to write.

Night. It was dark all around her. In a moonless sky, twinkling thousands of stars only faintly illuminated the earth. But in front of the burner is a bonfire, brightly illuminating the area. It was a clearing with low vegetation. In the distance, the lights of the city at night were visible on the horizon. The quiet wind gently touched her skin.

Three people were standing next to her. She did not recognize any of them. But they all seemed to be her age. Two guys and one girl.

In this darkness it was difficult to see their faces. But the color of their hair was easy to see. The guy to her left had silver hair. And the girl behind him she had raven hair like the guy on her right.

The girl seemed nervous, and so the guy took her hand and whispered something to her, but she did not hear it. The girl smiled sweetly at him and kissed him softly on the lips. The kiss was short-lived, and they soon parted.

Suddenly she heard a scream coming from the fire. Daenerys just now noticed the wooden post and the person tied to it. She focused her gaze on him, trying to figure out who it was. After a few moments, she realized who it was.

This is her own brother Viserys.

“NO! You won't burn me! I AM A DRAGON! The dragon does not burn in fire!” her brother cried desperately. She shuddered slightly, her only living relative would soon be consumed by fire.

She looked at the guy to her right, for some reason she was drawn to him. He gently took her hands in his and kissed her hands. Raising his head, he said something to her, but she, to her regret, did not hear anything. She saw his gray eyes, which were so dark that one would think they were black.

The kiss gave her shivers down her spine. There was a sense of peace inside her, despite her brother, who would soon burn out.

“You dirty half-breeds! Untie me!” while he was shouting, he slowly began to absorb the wooden pole to which he was tied.

“YOU!” he said, looking at the guy and the girl standing to her left. “You are only children of a Dornish whore! You are not Dragons! Free me! I am your king! If you do this now, perhaps I will be merciful to you!” but it seemed that they did not care about him.

When the fire reached his feet, Viserys screamed very loudly. But there was no further screams of pain. He glanced at the guy who was holding her hand. In his purple eyes, you could see the rage raging inside him.

“YOU! The son of the wolf bitch who destroyed our family! Untie me! And then I will forgive the sins of your whore-mother and leave you alive,” he shouted, constantly twitching, trying to get out of it by the fire.

But no one answered him. He tried to offend them even more but could not, because the fire began to consume him and he screamed in pain.

When the fire covered him more and more, he looked at her, in his eyes that past rage was no longer visible. Now they were gripped by madness.

“Dany! Free me now! Sweet little sister! You don't want to wake up the dragon!” but she didn't pay attention to it.

She felt something like a call. Something inside the fire was calling her.

She could not understand exactly what it was. Looking at the fire that was consumed by fire, she saw what was calling her.

Eggs. Dragon eggs.

She realized that she had to enter this fire, for she could no longer resist this call. Daenerys looked at the guy who was still holding her hand. He just nodded his head in approval of her actions and released her hand.

Slowly she began to walk towards the fire. Turning, she looked at the eyes of these three strangers. They looked at her with hope on their faces.

After a few seconds, she went into the fire.

Daenerys opened her eyes. She found herself in her spacious chambers in this huge palace. The first rays of the sun from the east began to illuminate her room. A fresh sea breeze blew from the balcony, cooling the room.

She tried to remember her dream. Lately she has been dreaming about this often. When they saw this dream for the very first time, she could not remember anything, but then, when the dreams began to dream again, she gradually began to remember more and more what happened in the dream. Today she managed to remember a new detail - the gray eyes of the guy with black curls, who was holding her hand. She also remembered a guy with silver hair and a girl with thick black hair that fell below her shoulders.

She couldn't understand who they were. Daenerys did not dare to tell her brother what she saw in a dream as he burned alive. She told about this dream only to her closest "friend", Ser Arthur. At the beginning of her story, he listened to her curiously, but when she began to describe the three people standing next to her, Ser Arthur looked at her with dismay in his eyes, as if she had said something forbidden. After listening to her, he said it might be a dragon dream. It was foolish to ask if he knew these people, because she herself did not even see their faces.

She still didn’t remember the words Viserys spoke as he burned in the fire, only his desperate cries of pain remained in her memory.

The most striking thing she remembered was the dragon eggs. One was the color of darkness, just like Balerion the Black Dread, the dragon of Aegon the Conqueror, whose drawing she had seen in her books on the history of their home, given to her by Magister Illyrio Mopatis on her tenth birthday. Although she saw red curls in that egg that made this egg more exciting.

Next to the black egg was an emerald and silver egg. All three eggs were delicious and mesmerizing in the burning fire she dreamed about.

Getting out of bed, she slowly walked to the bathtub that the servants had prepared for her. Steam was coming out of the water, and the water was very hot. It was clear that the bath had only been prepared a couple of minutes ago. Usually she woke up a little later, when the sun was already completely detached from the horizon lines, and by that time the water should have cooled down for the ideal temperature.

For some reason, she was not very comfortable when she bathed in that cold bath. Perhaps the water wasn't hot enough for her dragon blood. When she bathed in water that was too hot for the servants, she was very comfortable and there were no servants to help her wash and the young maidservants who were uncomfortably touching her. In this boiling water, Daenerys could safely bathe and enjoy solitude, without annoying servants.

When she slowly took a bath, began to leave, the servants entered the room, who were supposed to prepare her for the arrival of Khal Drogo.

When she sat down on the table in front of the mirror, they slowly began to style her silvery hair. After she got up, she was dressed in a light silk dress that was so transparent that her Unsuilled breasts could be seen. It seemed that this dress was not at all.

She looked perfect, her milky white skin was perfectly smooth, and her silky hair was reflecting the rays of the sun that fell into them, were like a bright white moon in the night sky. Valyrian features and bright, sparkling amethyst eyes. Any man in this world could not resist this innocent goddess in the flesh.

The door to her chambers opened and Daenerys saw her older brother walking nervously  
To her.

“Dear sister! Did you wake up yet. Today this equestrian savage will come to see you. You must look perfect,” Viserys said. With his soft hands, which were too tender for a man of his age, he took her breasts and pinched her nipple very hard. She wanted to cry out in pain, but immediately repressed the urge. She was afraid to wake up the dragon. Although this fear slowly began to diminish with the arrival of Ser Arthur, he very often saved her from him.

Ser Arthur came to their mansion a month or two ago. According to him, before Eddard Stark arrived at the Tower of Joy, they learned about the defeat of Rhaegar and the sack of King's Landing. Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, sent him to Dragonstone to take care of the safety of Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys. But he did not hear about the further fate of his two brothers in oath.

But he could not go there directly by land, for the path was blocked by the rebels. He went south to the shores of the Dornish Sea, and from there sailed to Dragonstone, but while sailing, he was caught in the strongest storm that Westeros had ever seen.

After the storm, he found himself on the islands of the Steps completely destitute without anything. There he was captured by pirates, but thanks to his skills as a swordsman, he was able to get into their ranks. He lived among pirates for four years, slowly gathering information about Westeros and the outcome of the rebellion. For a long time he tried to find Daenerys and Viserys, but his attempts were unsuccessful, since he spent most of the time at sea.

Finally collecting enough money for his long search and the necessary knowledge about Essos, he got off the ship in Braavos, deciding to start the search there. When he found out about Ser Willem Darry living there with the Targaryen children, he immediately went to them, but he did not have time. Ser WIllem died, and the children who lived with him were expelled from the house, and no one else saw them.

After that, he began to look for them all over Essos, from Braavos to Qarth, for many years. He even visited the ruined cities of Rhoyne. He heard rumors that they were constantly moving and followed their trail, along the way becoming a mercenary and only now found them.

She learned from Illyrio Mopatis, who took them into custody after Ser Willem Darry was killed to his palace in Pentos, that he spread rumors throughout Essos about their locations in order to knock off the trail of the killers sent by the usurper Robert Baratheon. But she doubted the words of the magister, for it did not seem that he was so powerful as to hide them from the whole world for such a long time. Varys visited them at the mansion several times and communicated with them about plans to return to Westeros. Surely it was the spider who started false rumors about their whereabouts.

Since he came to them, Ser Arthur quickly became her closest interlocutor. Before his arrival, no one saved her from the fits of rage and madness of her older brother. Viserys often beat her, blaming her for all the troubles of their family and believing that she was the reason for the fall of their house. Ser Arthur kept her brother from hurting her every time.

“When this herder comes, charm him so that he can no longer sleep with another woman in his life. You will be the Khaleesi of these mounted savages. Khaleesi is like a queen. He will make you his queen and give me an army to reclaim the throne of our ancestors,” he said slowly stroking her face.

She saw Khal Drogo as he walked through the markets of Pentos. He was everything she imagined when she thought of the Dothraki. Wild and rude, relying only on strength. Drogo was very tall, a head taller than any of the men around him, yet he moved as lightly and gracefully as a panther. His skin was the color of polished copper, black eyes, a long mustache and a braid that reached to his thighs, decorated with bells.

Some merchant in the market got into a conflict with him, who was unhappy that the Khal paid too little. Drogo cut his throat without thinking twice. Other merchants gasped in horror, and the city guards were too afraid of the khalasar, who was located next to Pentos. When the Khal and his blood riders went further, the guards only took the corpse from the market and cleared the place of blood.

“I don't want to be queen, I want to go home,” she whispered softly. But then she received a strong slap from her brother. She cried out in pain, touching the place of the blow with her hand, which immediately turned red.

The servants jumped in surprise, but Viserys waved them off, yelling for them to leave.

“I'll let him fuck you, and his blood riders, and all forty thousand savages and their horses if need be!” he shouted. A lonely tear started rolling down her cheeks. Viserys wiped it slowly with his hand.

“Did you get lessons from Dorea? She will teach you how to please this Khal properly.”

She only nodded softly in response.

“You look beautiful. Targaryens mostly married their siblings. You probably know that. But in the current conditions it is impossible, dear sister,” his violet eyes flashed mischievously, it seemed he was planning something, “But I still have to take your virginity. This savage is not worthy of such an honor.”

He slowly kissed her lips, and she immediately pulled away from him. But he grabbed her and threw her on the huge bed that was nearby. She tried to get away from him, but could not, he covered her with his body. Viserys grabbed her tightly, holding her as he tried to undo the straps on his trousers.

Daenerys could not believe that her brother could do this, endlessly beat and morally crush, it was familiar to her. But rape? She hadn't expected this.

“Help !!! Anyone !!!” she screamed desperately.

But there was no one, the servants must have heard her screams, but they could not help her. For they were too afraid of Viserys and his anger, the last daredevil who tried to help her was sold to slave traders at the insistence of her older brother.

She really wanted Ser Arthur to be here, he was the only one who could help her, and whom Viserys did not touch. She prayed to all the gods she knew to come here.

_Please, Ser Arthur, help!_

She wanted what was happening in her dream to become reality.

\------------------------------

Ser Arthur walked through the spacious mansion in the direction of the princess's chambers. He had already finished training with the Unsuillled, who were here in the guard role. They turned out to be great fighters. The Impeccable were excellent at using spears, and they most often used them. When he trained, he could effortlessly defeat one, but when a second and third Unsuilled with a spear joined him, he had to draw his second sword. Yet he did not hold out against the spears for very long.

When they took up swords, like himself, Arthur could defeat up to five or six Unsuilled ones, naturally he fought with two swords in his hands. No wonder he was called the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms, on a par with Ser Barristan Selmy. Although some believed that he was better, citing the fact that Arthur could perfectly wield two swords.

Arthur remembered his nephew, he was his namesake. The last time he saw him, he showed himself very well with the sword. Taught only by the weapons master of Winterfell, he fought well against the sons of Rhaegar, who were trained by the finest swordsmen of the Seven Kingdoms. Arthur could tell that his namesake potential was the greatest of those with whom he had a chance to sparring.

He had already taken a bath after his morning workout. The corridors were long, and there were many guest rooms and large halls. This palace was larger than the castles and fortresses in Westeros, not as big as Harrenhall or even Starfall, but still the house of Illyrio Mopatis was larger than many of the castles of the Seven Kingdoms.

When he was halfway there, he saw the magister who smiled warmly at him.

"Sir Arthur, please call the prince to me, I would like to discuss something with him," said Illyrio, elated.

“Okay, I was just heading there,” the magister just nodded and headed towards his solarium.

Arthur quickly ran there, threw open the doors, he went inside and looked around. Then he noticed Viserys hovering over Daenerys. Daenerys screamed and tried to get out of her brother's grip.

He froze for a moment. This picture shocked him terribly. Arthur remembered the times in the Red Castle, the last years of the Mad King's reign. He stood guard over Queen Rhaella's quarters. Aerys came to her at night. He heard the queen's screams of pain, the king beat and bit her, it was pure rape. In the morning the queen was covered with bruises. She hid it by dressing long sleeves and in other ways.

She was a beautiful and innocent woman, she did not deserve such treatment. I was standing there outside when this madman raped her. I would give anything to return to that moment. I would kill this bastard even if they called me the Kingslayer and Oathbreaker, even if I brought great disgrace on my house and myself. I could save the queen from this torture and hundreds of other innocent lives burned to death in a wild fire. But it's too late.

He couldn't let this madman do that either. Coming out of his trance state, he quickly ran to the bed. He pulled Viserys away from the princess with force and threw him to the floor.

The prince looked at him in surprise. There was only rage and madness in his eyes. As a child, when he was still living in the Red Keep, he quickly fell into a rage. In such cases, one could see the sadness in the eyes of the queen. It only got worse over the years. At a young age, he was forced to carry a heavy burden alone. If there were adults by his side like Rhaegar's children, perhaps he would not have deteriorated as much.

"How dare you! I am your king! I have the right to fuck her as much as I want!" he shouted and got up, heading towards Daenerys, wanting to finish his job. Ser Arthur drew his sword with lightning speedand put it to the prince's throat.

"Illyrio Mopatis called you to his solar. He wanted to show you something" the knight answered evenly.

Viserys only snorted in response and walked away with quick steps. In the first such cases, when the knight saved the princess from his rage, the prince demanded his head. But Varys and Illyrio convinced him not to do so, for Arthur might have been more useful when Viserys invaded Westeros.

Elia's suspicions that it was Varys were creating false gossip and rumors that the Prince and Princess were moving from place to place throughout Essos turned out to be true. Varys and the cheese merchant hid them after the death of Willem Darry in this mansion. The spider's motives were unknown though. For many years they have been looking for Daenerys and Viserys so that they can see their nephews and niece.

He glanced at the princess, who was sitting in bed with blank eyes directed nowhere. She looks so much like her mother. Her eyes filled with tears, he came closer and hugged her, hugging her. She sobbed loudly into his chest. He felt sorry for her. I hope they will not be late and come on time.

“I don’t want to live like this, Ser Arthur,” Daenerys said through her tears. “I don’t want to marry this savage. My own brother sells me to a rapist. Please help me.”

“Everything will be fine, princess. I will protect you. This herder does not dare to touch you.”

“Please take me out of here, I don’t want to see my brother,” but after a few moments she seemed to understand the last thing he said, “How? How can you let him not touch me if I marry him?”

At that moment, he remembered Queen Rhaella. She's probably watching them now. I will protect her, my queen. Forgive me for not doing anything against Aerys when you were alive. I regret it the most. I have failed you, but I will not fail your daughter.

“As I told you, princess, everything will be fine, just trust me,” Ser Arthur replied, hoping she would no longer question him.

“Okay,” she said, wiping away a tear, and smiled sweetly at him.

\------------------------------

The sun almost went down and the sky was a beautiful blood orange. Daenerys stood on the steps of Illyrio Mopatis's palace. Behind her stood Ser Arthur, fully armored, and the cheese merchant himself. And also there was her brother Viserys dressed in a beautiful black and red jacket that personified his house.

Here she is, standing almost naked, dressed only in a cloth that can hardly be called a dress. Hair that had been reshaped after her brother attempted to rape her. She was still sick of the thought of the incident. If not for Ser Arthur, it is not even known what else Viserys would have done.

Viserys has been looking for an army for a long time to seize the Iron Throne. He visited the triarchs of Volantis, the slavers of Meereen, the merchants of Qarth, and many others, but each time he returned to the mansion empty-handed. But in the end, Illyrio helped him to marry a Dothraki Khal. Probably in this way Illyrio wanted to stop paying the huge tribute that the Khal demanded, as well as from her and her brother.

“When will they come? The sun is already setting,” Viserys asked the merchant nervously.

“The Dothraki are not known for their punctuality, my king,” Illyrio replied calmly.

Moments later, hoofs were heard. Ten or fifteen riders began to approach them. As they approached, she was able to get a good look at them. There were thirteen of them. They weren't very different from each other. But she noticed Drogo immediately, it was hard to forget him after what he did with that merchant in the market.

They stood in front of the steps. The Khal muttered something, and the other riders moved away from him, he was alone. He looked defiantly at Viserys and Illyrio.

“Khal Drogo, Your Grace, an undefeated warrior, he rules the largest khalasar in the Dothraki Sea. There are about one hundred thousand people in his khalasar. His braid is very long, the Dothraki cut their braid when they lose, and Drogo has never cut his braid in his life.”

The Khal said something to the cheese merchant, she could not even identify those words.

“What did he say?” Viserys asked Illyrio in a sarcastic tone.

“He asks the princess to come down, he wants to take a good look at his future wife.”

“Do as he says, sister, your king orders,” her brother said proudly, trying to look on a par with the Khal. She looked back and looked at Ser Arthur with pleading eyes for help. He just smiled quietly at her and nodded.

She stood nervously, thinking. That's all, now I will be forever chained to this killer. Her eyes filled with tears, and she remembered a house with a red door, a lemon tree outside the window. How she longed to go back to the time when Viserys was sweet and kind and told her stories about their home, when Ser Willem Darry brought her small gifts from the markets and took care of them. But this cannot be returned.

“Get down from this ladder and let him have a good look at you, as I command you, ungrateful whore,” Viserys yelled at her. She came out of her trance and walked forward. Drogo walked around him on his black stallion, viewing her as a slave in the market he was about to buy. Her situation was very similar to this. No, it doesn't seem like this is it. I am being sold as a brood mare.

And then other sounds of hooves were heard. They all looked towards the source of the sound. One could see surprise on Illyrio's face, he clearly did not expect guests.

She herself looked where everyone was looking. The first thing that caught her eye was a white wolf, with ruby-red eyes. Then she noticed people approaching them. Three people rode ahead. And behind them are several more people.

In the center was a guy with silver hair and purple eyes, and at first glance, he had an obvious boyish cute face. Although this impression immediately became mistaken due to the barely visible small scars and cuts on his handsome face. This gave him a clear courage and from this he seemed more mature for his young age.

Who could it be? He had distinct Valyrian features, and his hair and eye colors were appropriate. She and Viserys were the last Targaryens. He couldn't be from their family. She really wanted him to be a Targaryen, but their whole family died out.

She took a close look at his gleaming armor. On the chest was a red three-headed dragon, with a ruby shining in the evening light for eyes. There were dragons on their shoulders too. And the armor itself was black. He wore a helmet on one arm that completely covered his face, and black dragon wings were visible on the sides of the helmet. He's Targaryen!

There was a girl next to him. With night-black hair, though she could have sworn she saw glimmers of silver on her head. And her eyes were like amethyst balls. She was wearing a bright and light silk dress. With her flawless, perfectly smooth skin, she was definitely beautiful, one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.

There was also another guy. His hair was the same as that of a girl, in the color of a crow's wing, about the same age as the guy with silver hair. His gray eyes were so dark that one would think they were black. There was a similarity between him and the other guy. Perhaps they were... brothers?

He wore armor the same as the first: black armor, with a red three-headed dragon on his chest. But on one of his shoulders was a white wolf, also with a ruby for eyes. It looks like the white wolf that came with them was his pet. He also had a dragon helmet on his hand.

It seemed to her that she had already seen the three of them somewhere. She examined them for a long time, trying to remember.

Can not be! It's them! She immediately remembered her dream. They were in her dream. What are they doing here?

\------------------------------

They entered through the gates of this huge palace. It was today that the Dothraki Khal was supposed to see his aunt. This rapist is not worthy of her hand. He would surely have raped her on their wedding night. His fool uncle decided to sell her to the herder for the army. Is he really that hopeless? The Dothraki never crossed the Narrow Sea. They are unlikely to do it for the Khal's bride and her brother.

He walked alongside his brother, Aegon. They wore beautiful black armor, with a dragon on their chest, it was in such armor that their father fought on the Trident against Robert Baratheon ... and lost. But Aegon's armor and his were slightly different, on Aegon's left shoulder pad was such a red dragon as on his chest. But he himself had a white direwolf depicted, with a red ruby for eyes in honor of his direwolf - the Ghost. He didn't want them to have the same armor, so as a younger brother, he changed his.

They have been training since they were four, ever since they were able to lift a wooden sword for the first time. Aegon and he were firmly convinced that their father had lost because he hadn't trained hard enough. They swore that they would not repeat his mistake and from that day on they learned fencing with great desire. They were trained by the kingsuards, the best swordsmen of Westeros.

From the age of twelve they began to fight with two swords. More recently, they were able to stand together against four of their kingsuards. And since then, their confidence has grown with each workout.

Sometimes Gerold Hightower would find small jobs for them so that they could gain experience in real combat. They committed their first murders accompanying a small caravan. They were attacked by poorly trained robbers, so it was easy for them.

Also in front of them rode Rhaenys, his sister and lover Aegon. At a very young age when he was not even ten years old, Jon, like Aegon, was in love with her. He couldn't blame himself, how could you not fall in love with Rhaenys? She was very beautiful, like her mother, with lovely purple balls and long black hair. Still, she chose his brother. But by the time she made her choice, his feelings had cooled. He was not angry with his brother for this. It was just childish love.

Behind them were their mothers. He loved Elia as a mother, no less than his own mother, Lyanna. In turn, they loved the three of them equally.

Ser Jaime Lannister, who saved Aegon, Rhaenys and Eliya, Ser Oswell Went, and Ser Gerold Hightower who were with his mother in the Tower of Joy rode with them. They sent Sir Arthur Dane in advance to this mansion and from him they learned that they were going to sell the princess to the Dothraki Khal.

They pondered for a long time what to do with Illyrio, on the one hand he kept their uncle and aunt safe and did not allow them to live in poverty, and on the other, he was going to sell Daenerys to a savage.

Slowly they began to approach the meeting point. From a distance they saw the horse lords. Coming closer, you could see them well. Everyone who stood there looked at them in surprise.

The Dothraki looked at them with disgust in surprise, for sure they thought that they would be the only guest today. They looked fierce, with large muscles, and their skin was bronze due to their lifestyle. All at once pulled out their arakhs, glittering dimly from the evening sky.

The others stared at the intruders in shock. Only Ser Arthur's face showed calmness.

She was very beautiful, long silver hair falling to her shoulders was beautifully styled, and she herself was wearing only a semblance of a dress, leaving little to the imagination. I already hate Viserys. His uncle was thin and looked weak in his red and black tunic.

“Illyrio, tell Khal Drogo that he is not worthy of the hand of Princess Targaryen and order him to leave, otherwise he will die,” Aegon said in a confident voice. It looks like the magister didn't expect them to know his name and looked confused.

“Um, what is your name, my lord?” the fat man asked with a trembling voice.

“You can only ask questions after the Dothraki have left,” Jon replied. He didn't want to stand and answer questions when the equestrian lords were still standing there. Naturally, they did not think that they would just leave, so they prepared in advance.

“All right,” the magister replied, and without further ado, he translated Khala’s words.

As expected, they disobeyed. In vain. The one who examined Daenerys, who had looked at them with contempt all this time, said something to the other riders. With a mischievous smile, they nodded to their Khal, dismounted from their horses and headed towards them. The terrain was not convenient for fighting on horseback. In turn, he and Aegon dismounted as well.

The kingsuards long tried to persuade them not to fight them only together, but in the end Aegon said that he was the king and ended their vain attempts to dissuade them from such an act.

They have been preparing for battles all their lives and now the moment of truth has come. Killing petty bandits and training with the kingsuards is nothing compared to a real battle against the best warriors of the largest khalasar.

“As you expected, we'll have to shed blood,” Aegon said, smiling softly as he donned his dragon helmet. Jon also put on his helmet. Both of them were confident that they would win.

The princess who stood below immediately ran up the stairs, feeling the upcoming battle. Arthur hugged the girl to him, protecting her. Illyrio and Viserys remained where they were.

They both had two swords on their sides. He and his brother drew their blades. One of his brother's swords stood out from the others. It was dark gray and had runic patterns closer to the hilt. Dark Sister. It was a bastard sword with a narrow blade, in the crosshair formed by the guard and blade, a red sparkling ruby was located.

This sword was found behind the wall by one of the very loyal Targaryen loyalists in the rebellion, sent to the wall. Its last owner was Brynden Rivers, who went missing behind the wall. He gave this sword to Aemon Targaryen, magister of the Night's Watch. He kept it at home, looking for people worthy to use it. When Uncle Benjen visited the Black Castle and told him that Rhaegar's sons were alive, he gave this sword to him and asked to give it to Aegon.

Since then they exchanged letters with him, the old man was very wise and gave good advice. He told them about his correspondence with Rhaegar and gave them his letters. From them, they learned other sides of their father, which he did not show to others.

The three Blood Rider approached them first. The Dothraki's lunges were strong, several times Jon blocked his blows by crossing two swords. His opponent had a large, strong physique, but still he was not fast enough. With a furious roar, he swung at Jon's head. This time the prince did not defend himself, but cut off the hand holding the arakh. From the sharp pain the Dothraki recoiled from him, losing concentration, Jon seized the moment and plunged a blade into his chest. He pulled the sword from his chest and the Dothraki fell. Jon looked towards his brother, blood pouring from the throats of the two savages.

It seems like the others just now realized how dangerous these brothers are, even the khal went to them. Jon twisted his swords in his arms and took a defensive stance. One Dothraki, thinner and seemingly weaker than his previous opponent, attacked the prince without a loud cry, only with an indistinct muttering on his lips. This Dothrakian quickly went to the next world, only having managed to make a couple of punches.

The next one showed more worthy resistance, but soon he too fell at his hands. Aegon also managed to kill two. There were only three against two left. The other three Dothraki only watched from the sidelines.

The Khal moved towards him, and the other two towards Aegon. Drogo was taller, stronger and more powerful. Jon barely managed to block his arakh strike with two swords. He stepped on him, and Jon could only block and retreat. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Aegon, who had already killed one of the two. In his next blow, the khal put all his strength, but he was able to take him away with his left sword, and with his right sword he cut off the khal's leg. Drogo screamed very loudly. All eyes fell on him when Drogo hit the ground. With a final blow, Jon put an end to his suffering. Aegon also killed his last opponent.

They were certainly great warriors, but Aegon and Jon were better. The other three who watched the battle looked at them with great respect in their eyes. They walked over to him and knelt down. The Dothraki said something, but it was incomprehensible to him.

\------------------------------

“They ask you to give your name, they want to serve you by declaring you their Khal,” the magister said, looking at them.

The one who killed Drogo took off his helmet, removed the sweaty black curls stuck to his forehead and looked at her. You can drown in his gray eyes. The other also took off his dragon helmet. His silvery hair fell over his shoulders, blowing in the evening breeze that blew from the Narrow Sea. Both looked at the merchant in surprise.

“Khal?” the silver-haired man asked Illyrio.

“Yes, you killed Drogo, the Khal of all Khals, in an honest sword fight. You showed them your strength, and the Dothraki follow the strength,” the magister replied.

“He’s Jon of House Targaryen, translate him, let them call him Khal,” the guy with silver hair answered without hesitation. _What? Who is he anyway?_

“But ... I cannot, brother, I cannot be a Khal when you are. You have to rule, not me,” Jon replied with an embarrassed look.

“No, Jon. You are better suited for this. You better ride, I am nothing compared to you and it was you who killed their Khal. I can't stay ahead of you forever,” the silver-haired man said, placing his hand on Jon's shoulder. He only nodded in response.

Illyrio quickly translated their name. The Dothraki people knelt down and swore allegiance to him and called him "Khal Jon".

“Sorry, can you tell me your name now?” the magister asked leisurely, fingering his fingers.

“Aegon of House Targaryen, the sixth of his name, the rightful king of the Andals, Rhoynars and the first men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Defender of the State,” Jon answered proudly for his brother to the magister.


	2. King arrives at Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought I'd release the second chapter, but here it is!  
> Maybe in the first part of Ned a little OOC, but I must say that I really enjoyed writing this.  
> Read on and enjoy! I hope I won't disappoint you!  
> Apologies in advance for all my grammatical mistakes.

**Ned Stark**

The first rays of the rising sun began to dazzle his newly opened eyes. The northerners woke up with the sun and this day was no exception. Outside the window was visible the receding darkness, and the walls of the castle were preparing for the impending arrival of the king. After a short time, life in Winterfell will already boil.

Robert, his once best friend, is due to arrive today. Quite a long time had passed since their last meeting after the siege of Pyke. They didn’t have enough worthwhile conversation then, for Ned himself didn’t want to talk to him.

Ned still remembered how, after the Rebellion, when he returned to the capital with his son and introduced Ashara as his wife, Robert became angry with him.

"How can you marry this Dornish whore, her brother must have enjoyed my precious Lyanna's screams of pain when his cunt friend, the so-called "Last Dragon", raped her hundreds of times!" Robert shouted in rage at the top of his voice, sitting on the terrifying Iron Throne in the half-empty throne room, where there were only the Paramount Lords and a few other important persons of Westeros who remained there after the coronation. And also some of the most loyal to the Starks, the northern lords stood behind Ned. Eddard glared deathly at the man he considered his best friend just moments ago.

"You insult your sister's memory, Ned! I would never have thought that you would let yourself be seduced by some whore so easily. The Ned I know would be doing his duty and marrying the noble Catelyn Tully, not the whore of Dayne's house. While you were fighting in the war, she must have slept with half of Dorn!" the words of his friend echoed terrifyingly in the huge hall and in an instant Robert destroyed all their seemingly indestructible bonds of friendship and brotherhood formed during his upbringing in the Eyrie. All the lords who stood there watched them in amazement. Behind him, Ned could hear the quiet curses of the northerners, who were also angry at their Lady's insults.

Baratheon opened his mouth to shout the insults once more, but fell silent in anticipation of words from Ned. In the air, one could feel a strong tension between them. It seemed that the weather itself reflected the events in the throne room, the air of which became unexpectedly stifling despite the enormity of this room, gray clouds appeared as if from nowhere covered the rays of the sun, making the room even darker and gloomy.

Eddard Stark's cold and distant voice filled with restrained anger broke the deathly silence. "Know that I will remember your words until my last breath, Robert. The North remembers."

Looking back, Ned out of the corner of his eye saw the sad face of Jon Arryn, their adoptive father. At the corners of his eyes filled with unimaginable pain were stuck tears from the terrible scene in front of him. His two mans, whom he loved with all his heart, as if they were his own children, severed all their relations in an instant.

"You’re lucky that I’m not the Mad King! Otherwise I would have killed all those bastards who are associated with Targaryens, including her and her family!" Robert shouted after leaving Ned and his entourage. Other insults about the fact that he called his first child Arthur, Ned did not even want to remember.

Since then, Ned has never visited King's Landing, Robert invited him every time he had a child, but Eddard did not respond to his invitations. Although he was in self-imposed "exile" in the North, he still heard that Robert considered him bewitched by his wife and that she was poisoning him against the king.

Ned was oblivious to this and lived an almost fabulous life with Ashara and family. Every morning they woke up in each other's arms and many times stayed in bed making love and having breakfast in the lord's chambers, instead of starting their duties in the morning with the other people of this castle.

For all these years, their love has not diminished in any way and they have built an indestructible fortress around them. He heard the quiet yawn of his love. She already woke up. The gentle touch of the hand of his "star" interrupted the stream of thoughts in my head. Ashara turned his head towards her and kissed him lovingly on the lips, to which Eddard responded with the same love. The long kiss was interrupted only by lack of air, each kiss took a separate place in his heart, for they were all special in their own way and Ned could remember each of them.

Ned went into a trance, remembering their first kiss after a feast on the shores of God's Eye in the cover of night. A thousand twinkling stars, scattered throughout the night sky, could not shine as it did on that wonderful night. Their light was nothing compared to the light with which she illuminated his life.

Usually in the morning, her kiss gave him a full charge of energy for the whole day, today's sunrise was no exception. There was a hard day ahead…

"Good morning, my wolf," Ashara's angelic voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "You are so beautiful when you think about it, my love," she whispered, slowly running her hand down his stomach.

"Good morning, my star," he replied, kissing her softly on the forehead. Ned wanted to say something, but gasped before he even had time to open his mouth when she started massaging his cock and threw her leg over him. Ned enjoyed it for a few moments, after which he began to kiss her willingly and reached his hand to her chest.

"Perhaps we’ll have breakfast here too today? How do you look at it, lord husband?" she purred in his ear, continuing to rub his already excited member. Ned said nothing, just gently massaged her clitoris with his free hand, then entered her with two fingers. She moaned softly and sighs of pleasure followed.

This went on for several minutes, until he came on her hand, and she on his. Raising her hand to her mouth, she playfully licked his semen, he also did it with her juice. Without much thought, she straddled him and bent over to kiss him. _Gods, she's perfect_. If someone asked him what the goddess looks like, he would immediately describe Ashara to that person.

Even after she gave birth to six children, her body remained perfect. By far the most beautiful woman in Westeros. And she was his, and he was her.

"Ash, we can't. Do you remember what happened the last time we stayed here?" he asked between kisses, with great difficulty to restrain his desires. Yesterday he could not resist her and her temptation, and he was ashamed that he had taken such lightheartedness to his duties as Lord of Winterfell.

"And what happened then?" with feigned surprise and temptation she asked, teasing him and moving him just below his chin, began to make a mark with a greedy kiss on his neck.

"We stayed here for a few hours and were the last to get up in the whole castle, Ash!" he exclaimed, lifting her chin and pulling away from her.

"Lately we have started to take too much liberties. Especially since Robert is coming today," Ned sighed wearily, slowly removing her from him.

"To hell with Robert! I hate him! He probably would have killed me if we hadn't gotten married. His hatred of the Targaryens blinds him. That time we were saved by your strong friendship, which does not exist now," Ashara snorted and got off him. Getting out of bed, she went to the next room, where the servants had already prepared a bath for them. Ned also got up and followed her, still admiring the figure of his wife.

"Yes, I know. I hate him as much as you. I will never forgive him for those words. But Jon wrote that lately he has become very sorry for his words, even began to drink less and shorten his carnal needs. Robert wants to restore our friendship and strengthen it," he said, getting into a warm bath with her.

"Your adoptive father is not saying something. It's not easy. And I will never give our daughter to his son if he wants to “strengthen” your friendship in such a way," she said with dislike in her voice.

"I have to accept him for Jon. He will be deeply saddened if we quarrel even more. He is one of the few people dear to me outside my family. Be calm, at least for my sake, my love. I promise he won't stay long," Ned asked in a pleading tone, and with one hand began to fiddle with her hair, disheveled from nighttime lovemaking, and put his other hand on the back of her head. Slowly pulling her towards him, Ned kissed her inviting and slightly swollen lips.

"Yes, just for you, my wolf," she replied after kissing.

\---------------------

**Arya Stark**

The sun was just rising, casting out the darkness in the sky and painting the horizon a blood orange. As usual, she woke up before everyone else in the castle and did not want to waste time wandering around Winterfell. Arya slowly walked to the godswood to train, holding the Needle in her left hand. A thin and light sword made especially for her hands was her favorite thing. It was a gift from her oldest brother Arthur, before his departure, forged by Gendry.

Artie was her favorite brother. He always found time to spar with her and sometimes even let her win. Although he succumbed, he was still the best swordsman in the North, so she was proud of her victory, no matter what.

Before leaving the castle, she went to her older sister, begging that she also train with her, but Elianna replied with a firm refusal and asked not to leave the castle at all on such an early morning. When she asked her to at least watch her and protect her, just in case, her sister was already in the world of dreams.

Upon entering this sacred place, she felt peace and tranquility. These trees could drown out any coming noise in the castle from preparations for the king's arrival. Nymeria, who was walking with her all the time, immediately left her, lost among the trees. In the center of the weirwood, Arya noticed a silhouette sitting in front of a heart-tree, but she could not recognize this person, because of the darkness.

She froze for a moment. Fear gripped her entire body. _Nymeria, why did you leave now?_ Arya wanted to call her direwolf, but she did not want to betray her presence. She should have listened to Elianna's advice and stayed in her quarters. But she remembered the stories of the same Elianna, about her adventures when she escaped from the castle with Edwyle. Her stories have always fascinated Arya. She plucked up courage, deciding not to run away from the stranger and try to find out his name, while having the opportunity to escape.

_Light as a leaf_ , she remembered Syrio's words. Trying not to give herself away, she took a different path. As soon as she got close enough to recognize him, the man spoke.

"What are you doing here, sis?" having heard the distant voice of her brother, she left her hiding place.

"I wanted to practice with Needle," Arya replied. She didn't even try to ask him how he knew about it. Alaric seemed to be everywhere and from the thought that he was watching her when she was plotting some prank, a shiver ran down her spine.

"Have you spent the night in the godswood again, brother?" she asked. The rays of the rising sun, barely passing through the dense branches of the trees, lit up his father's chestnut hair and unique eyes with a bright light, one of which was gray like clouds on a rainy day, and the other was a beautiful violet color inherited from his mother.

In response, not even wanting to open his mouth, he just nodded. Alaric came closer to the heart-tree and sat down before the face of the Old Gods.

This was not an unusual occurrence, Alaric sometimes slept in front of the heart-tree. He began to do this after Brandon's death.

Her only younger brother did not live in this world for long, although no one expected this. It was two years ago. Mom during pregnancy felt great and there were no particular problems. When she found out that she would have a younger brother or sister, she felt happier than ever before. She did not like being the youngest in the family and she wanted to be able to scold someone for stupid acts or cares about someone, to be a role model for this person, as her brothers and sister were for her. The day that should have been the best of her life was instead the worst. But her mother promised that she would still have a younger brother or sister and Arya knew that it would be so, because her mother always kept her word.

After Brandon was buried in the crypt, Alaric did not leave the godswood for a whole month, spending the night there. Only long persuasion and tears of his mother made him return to his chambers.

Arya, of course, asked them, but everyone said that Alaric was saddened by the death of his brother. There was something wrong with that. _Then why didn't the others sleep here too?_ This was another mystery for her in this huge world full of secrets.

"Then, can you train me?" she asked her brother hopefully.

"No," he replied, without even turning to her and in every tone making it clear that he did not want to continue the conversation. A displeased sigh escaped her lips and she slowly began to repeat the movements that Syrio had taught her.

The usual song of birds died away as Alaric touched his hand carved into the tree. Only the leaves of the trees rustled softly in the cold morning wind. Frozen in place like a statue of a brother gave her goosebumps.

Still, she didn't want to waste time making indistinct movements. Right now, she needed a sparring partner or instructor to give some guidance and point out disadvantages. Today she will no longer have a chance to hold the sword in her hands due to the arrival of the king, and this will surely continue until his departure. She needed to make the most of this moment. She already had a good plan in her head.

Slowly she walked up to the face on the tree, from whose eyes a red liquid was pouring. Alaric sat with his eyes closed, one hand touching a tree. _Well, my plan doesn't seem to be very bad_.

"Alaric Stark!" she said loudly, bringing the sword to his neck. But her brother did not react in any way, only closed his eyes even more, trying to focus on something. "Give up! Or I will kill you!" she threatened in the same high tone. Of course, she had no intention of killing him. But he still remained motionless. _Heck! It takes even more effort!_

"You think I can't?! The blood of the great Swords of the Morning, who have always been the best warriors of Westeros, flows through my veins. The Kings of Winter, the only kings of the First Men who fought back the Andals, are my ancestors. Nymeria of the Royne... "

"Arya" her brother's firm voice interrupted her. A tired sigh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes. "What do you need?" removing his hand from the tree, he looked expectantly at her.

"Train me," she asked, but there was no answer. "Well, at least give some instructions or advice, please, brother," Arya pleaded.

"Okay, then you must completely obey me and must not object," Alaric replied, and a spark of happiness swept her eyes.

"Yes, I will completely obey you," said Arya.

"Then, here is my first instruction. Get away from me and imagine the invisible in front of you," her brother said in an imperious tone.

"So?" she asked, doing as he ordered.

"Try to neutralize or kill this person without making any sounds."

"But ..." she was about to object, but her brother immediately interrupted her.

"No sounds, this is training your patience," he said and sat down, eyes closed, in front of a heart-tree.

\---------------------

**Ned Stark**

Ned stood in the courtyard of Winterfell awaiting the king's arrival. To his left was his wife, Ashara Stark. And on the right were his children. Edwyle and Elianna stood proudly side by side, hardly looking up from each other. And behind him stood as usual the quiet Alaric, his third son, with a unique gift from the Old Gods, in the form of unique eyes. Arya stood last, with a bored expression on her face.

The massive gates of Winterfell opened and the royal procession entered with all their luxury, the crimson and gold Lannister banners with roaring lions and the black and yellow banners of the Baratheons with a crowned deer filled the courtyard, fluttering in the light breeze. There were about two hundred people in the retinue, slightly more than half of whom were the guards of the Lannister or Baratheon. The rest were people of different classes, from low servants to the nobles of the Red Keep.

The young man, riding in the front rows, with a slender body as a reed, was dressed in fabulous white and gold armor, polished to a shine, in some places of which you could see patterns of roses, showing from which house this man was, a beautiful white cloak fell down his back, cloak of the royal guard. Lots of naughty chestnut curls fell on brown, liquid gold eyes. It was undoubtedly Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, the youngest member of the kingsguard to date to receive a white cloak recently and a close friend of the Crown Prince.

Ahead rode two almost identical carriages, the only difference being the colors. The first was black and gold, and the one behind was red and gold. From the decorations and patterns located outside, one could immediately understand that these were royal carriages.

Also in the front rows, behind Loras Tyrell, rode two princes.

Crown Prince Orys Baratheon, who recently turned sixteen, with his characteristic black hair and blue eyes, sat confidently on a black horse, looking at the people around with a haughty expression on his face. With medium-length hair, broad shoulders and a well-built body, the prince was reminiscent of his father during the rebellion. If he held a huge war hammer in his hands, and put a helmet with deer horns on his head, then he could be mistaken for the Demon of the Trident. In all the Seven Kingdoms, girls whispered about his beauty and compared them to the previous crown prince, but maidens who saw the dragon prince would only laugh at such a comparison.

His brother Raymont Baratheon, although he was younger than him, was not inferior to his older brother physically. Strongly built body, high growth and "Baratheon" features, left no doubt that he was the son of Robert.

The procession stopped and the doors of the first carriage opened to reveal a fat, clumsy man. It was difficult to say that this man was once a formidable warrior who destroyed everyone and everything on the Trident. A handsome face and strong muscles hid behind thick layers of fat. Black hair and eyes, all that remains of that great warrior.

Ser Loras Tyrell and Raymont Baratheon dismounted from their horses and approached the second carriage, whose doors also opened. Ser Loras confidently held the princess's hand, helping her down, and the prince did the same with the queen.

When her foot dropped to the ground, the queen's face contorted with disgust, but she immediately hid it behind a mask of indifference. She was wearing a bright crimson dress that personified her home, golden curls falling in waves over her shoulders. Her fair skin had only slightly lost its brightness, which was surprising considering that she spent many years in King's Landing. She was certainly a beautiful woman, but to Ned there was no one more beautiful than Ashara.

Princess Myrcella wore a golden silk dress, had the same golden hair as her mother and jade eyes. Unlike her twin, Raymont, who went completely to her father, she was a complete copy of Cersei in her youth, but in her eyes you could see innocence, which Cersei did not have.

Everyone in Winterfell knelt down as the royal family began to approach them.

"Winterfell is yours, your grace," Ned said in a steel voice, staring at the ground.

"Get up, Ned! And enough of these formalities, you are my friend!" said Robert in a loud voice, lifting Ned from his knees. "It’s me who must kneel before you," Robert grumbled much quietly and knelt down in front of him.

"Forgive me for everything I said when I was sitting on that damn chair and for all the words that I said about you behind your back," he said pleadingly, looking at Lord Winterfell.

Ned was speechless with shock when he heard his words. This was the last thing he expected from Robert. There was almost nothing left of the man with whom he fought side by side during the Rebellion, that Robert would never have knelt down to ask for forgiveness.

Only now, looking down at him, could he get a good look at Robert. He was a completely different person. His cheeks were so bold that his eyes were barely beads, and his well-grown beard barely concealed his second chin.

"I have nothing to forgive, you must not ask me for forgiveness," Ned replied and pointed to his wife. Robert stood up and looked at him in bewilderment, as if asking " _Are you serious?_ " But Ned stood firm and nodded imperceptibly, answering his mental question.

With a defeated expression, Robert turned away from his friend and glanced at Lady Stark, but he did not kneel.

"I am sorry for all my words that offend your honor, Lady Stark. I want to say that I deeply regret my actions," said Robert, looking at Ashara. From his look it was possible to understand that he was really sincere. Ned noticed an expression of bewilderment on his wife's face, which was immediately replaced by a mask of indifference.

"I accept your apologies, Your Grace," Ashara replied indifferently and Robert, not hiding his joy, immediately turned away to see the rest of the people standing in the yard.

The king examined all the standing people and his gaze lingered on Jasper Arryn, standing to the left of his wife. Son and heir to Jon Arryn.

Robert looked at Jasper and walked over to him with a smile. "Here you are! Son of Jon Arryn. The last time I saw you, you were like a frail girl. Apparently the North and Ned's upbringing were useful for you. You will be the worthy Lord Paramount of the Vale, boy," he said and patted him loudly on the back.

Then he stepped away from Jasper and looked towards his children. He looked at them for a long time and his face tensed, it seemed he was calculating something in his head. Then he looked at him in complete bewilderment.

"Where is your firstborn, Ned?" he asked with confusion in his voice.

"Lately, wildling raids have increased and the Night's Watch has been sending in alarming reports. I sent him beyond the Wall to investigate the cause of these phenomena," Ned replied dryly.

He sent his son, Arthur, a few months ago so that he could gain experience and prove himself. He went along with several dozen warriors of the North, where they were, Ramsey Snow - the bastard of Roose Bolton, Dustin Cassel and others. There had been no news from him for too long. The deadline for the sortie had already passed, about a week ago they should have returned to Castle Black. They have already sent ravens there several times with a request for at least some information, but in response they received nothing of value. Every morning Ned began to regret it more and more and cursed himself every time he remembered Arthur.

"Show me where the crypts are, Ned. I would like to visit her," the king said in an imperative tone.

"The dead can wait," Cersei snapped with a hiss.

"Shut your mouth, woman! It's not up to you to decide what to do!" Robert shouted and followed him.

They slowly descended the stairs into the dark crypts where his ancestors rested. Ned took the torch from the door. The light from the fire ran over the faces of the Kings of Winter, looking off into the distance. Nearby lay the formidable direwolves, instilling fear in their mere appearance.

Some time later, after the direwolves disappeared and only the Starks themselves remained, they reached the grave of Brandon, Ricard and Lyanna.

"She was prettier than that..." Robert said quietly. He looked at the statue for a long time, whispering something under his breath. Looking at his strained face from the side and at his muttering, one would think that he was a wizard trying to resurrect her. But he would never have been able to do it if he were really some kind of wizard. After all, the grave in front of him was empty. When he touched the stone hand, his face faded and you could see real pain on it.

The statue was really not very pretty. When Lyanna saw this, she was upset and promised herself to make a statue really similar to her during her lifetime. She came here for a long time, then Jon just began to speak his first words, having spent here only a few days. From that day on, he saw her only once, when he was in Essos on matters that lacked Benjen's authority and required the presence of the Warden of the North himself. Usually his brother was his representative in foreign affairs and made deals on his behalf. Those occasions were an excellent opportunity to meet Lyanna and to introduce Arthur to the children of Rhaegar.

"Damn it, Ned! Did you have to bury her here?" the King growled in a violent tone. "She deserved more than being buried in this eerie place."

"She was the Stark of Winterfell,” Ned said coolly. "This is her home." There was a long, heavy silence, broken by Robert's sudden voice.

"Do you remember that bard who was with me during the Rebellion?"

"Yes," Ned could say, not understanding what he had introduced. He still remembered William Doreen, a commoner, but so much like a snake that they were found in the Red Keep. His flattery and lies repelled people like Ned, but were very much to the liking of such frivolous people as Robert.

"He wrote a ballad about me, about my courage, about my love for Lyanna," Robert said the last part quietly, it seemed to hurt him. "I gave him lands and the title of lord for this, just for some poetry. What a fool I am," he spat in disgust. "I even gave him the position of Master of Coin, for his flattery and a couple of other songs"

Such a special position was probably the right place for people like him. Yet he still did not understand where his friend was leading.

"All this time the snakes around me, and especially this William, have poisoned my mind and turned against you. Every time you did not respond to my invitations, he slandered you, and I just like a fool happily agreed with them and cursed you and your wife. I'm sorry about that," Robert said sadly. This made Ned feel sorry for his friend. What the king said afterwards completely shocked him.

"That bastard tried to poison Jon Arryn," Robert spat in full hatred. "Perhaps if not for Varys, he would have succeeded."

It was a bolt from the blue. Ashara was right, Jon Arryn didn't share everything. Recently, a note of mystery has appeared in the messages of his adoptive father, and in his last letter, he insistently asked at least to forgive his former friend.

"What happened to him?" Eddard asked. He would have finished off this bastard with his bare hands if he had the opportunity. Mentally, Ned thanked the Old Gods for everything worked out.

"Of course, I executed him," Robert replied a little cold. There was a long, deathly silence, but Robert's sonorous voice broke it.

"There are too many vipers around me in the capital, they all need more power and money. I need loyal people, Ned," Robert said, looking at the stone statue. "If Lyanna was alive, we would become brothers. But it's not too late, my Orys and your daughter. We could tie our families together and I would be glad if you went south with me."

"I have to discuss this with Ashara," Ned replied, although he knew in advance that she would reject it.

"Ned, let me redeem myself before you. I will make your daughter queen and I can give you any position in the Small Council you want," said Robert, looking at him pleadingly.

"You know, Robert, I don't need any power. I can't leave the North, especially when my heir is somewhere beyond the Wall," Ned replied dryly. Robert intended to argue, but he continued. "We are late here, Your Grace. They are already waiting for us above."

Without saying anything, Robert walked with him back to the exit.

\---------------------

**Arthur Stark**

**Not far from Craster’s Keep.**

The bright blue eyes, which until then had seemed lifeless, widened in surprise, as did Arthur's own purple eyes when Longclaw did not split like the swords of his other partners and was able to block the onslaught of the ice spear.

Inspired by this, Arthur went on the offensive, delivering sharp blows and not giving the walker an opportunity to strike. “ _No wonder they call me the best swordsman of the North,_ ” he thought proudly to himself.

However, the battle did not last long. When he cut open the chest of the White Walker with a sparkling Longclaw, his empty eyes were distorted with the horror of imminent death, and at the same moment he issued a piercing deafening grinding, from which a shiver ran through his entire body, but it did not last long, for the walker's body shattered into thousands of small pieces ice.

Arthur exhaled deeply and relaxed, fell to his knees. He killed the White Walker, the same one of Old Nan's horror stories. He never believed in the stories of the elderly nanny, until the moment when he saw how blue eyes, in complete darkness, began to approach the child of Craster.

He immediately ordered Sam to take the child, and return back to the black brothers, asking to send people, and he first killed Craster, together with Dustin Cassel, Gareth and several northerners, was forced to engage in a fight with the walker. But none of them could resist the monster, pale as milk skin, except for him. His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet cough. Arthur looked around and saw Dustin lying down, pressing his hand, red with blood, to his stomach. He was only a few years older than him and they were good partners. When he immediately ran up to Cassel, he laughed, although his usual cheerful face was already beginning to pale and life was leaving him.

"Oh yeah! It was the bloody White Walker! And you were able to kill him!" Dustin said proudly. "I always knew you were special, Arthur Stark. The best swordsman of the North." Then he looked down and removed his hand from his stomach, revealing a huge cut left by an ice spear, from which blood flowed like a river. "Tell my family that I love them. I know we often quarreled with him, but I also loved Jory, he is still my older brother."

"No, you yourself will tell him that when we get back to Winterfell," Arthur replied. Sheathing the sword, he placed Cassel's hand around his neck and lifted it from the ground. Looking around towards Craster's fortress, he heard two long beeps on the horn, followed by the clang of steel and the shouts of people. _The wild_ _lings_ _attacked_.

From the side of the trees where the battle was taking place, two dark figures began to slowly approach, muttering something. One of them had what looked like a bow on his back, but the darkness made it difficult to identify what it was. Maybe it's Edd and Grenn and they came to help him, because only they could listen to Sam.

"Then I will have to..." began the larger man, but immediately fell silent when the smaller one stuck a dagger into his throat. _What's happening_?

Then the figure, drawing a bow behind its back, began to slowly emerge from the shadows of the trees. It was Ramsey Snow. His lips twisted into a devilish smile as he aimed at him.

"Ramsey? What are you doing?" - asked Arthur in confusion.

"You know, my father and stepbrother were against this idea, they said that now is not the right time and too risky," Ramsey said and fired an arrow that whistled into his knee. "And so they sent Locke after me, whom I got rid of safely."

Arthur, with pain in his leg, tried to slowly put Dustin to the ground and grab Longclaw, but the second arrow flew into his friend's left eye and exited from the back of his head. Arthur threw Cassel, and as soon as he touched the sword hilt, another arrow hit his other leg, forcing him to fall to his knees. _Why doesn't he kill me_?

"When the wildlings attack and the entire camp is in chaos, the heir to Winterfell could easily disappear without a trace," said Snow.

A thousand possible answers swirled in his head, and among them was one of the worst, which was the most likely given what he had heard about this bastard. But Arthur didn't want to think about it now. Dark was not around as usual, although in Winterfell he always followed him, since he left the Wall, his direwolf began to walk away from him very often.

"I have been thinking for a long time about how to kill you, can I skin you?" he said, and bowing his head mockingly, shot another arrow. "Still, I decided to keep you alive," Ramsey continued. Fully confident of his success, he took out his dagger and slowly began to approach him. "For I have a better idea." His face broke into a wide smile "Reek."

Suddenly there was the whistle of an arrow and Ramsey, with surprise in his eyes, froze. Arthur heard another arrow pierce the flesh, the devilish smile on the bastard's face trembled and he fell to his knees, and then completely fell dead face down. Two arrows protruded from his back, only then Arthur noticed a woman with fiery red hair, on whose hands there was a bow, already pointed at him, _obviously she killed Ramsey_. She was dressed in furs and various animal skins.

Arthur still managed to get Longclaw, but he immediately felt a burning pain in his leg from the arrows left by the bastard. He bent down and was about to break the arrow, but felt a violent blow from behind and fell unconscious into the bloody snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the Starks! How do you like them?  
> About Arthur's name: This name was given to him by Ashara. She gave birth to him at the end of the rebellion, and thought that Ned had left her. Because all that was known was that Hoster Tully had joined the uprising. And then she did not know about the details. This will be revealed later.
> 
> The next chapters will be shorter, maybe 3k-4k words, for writing 5k-6k words turned out to be a very difficult task for an aspiring writer like me. And please write what you think about this chapter, for in the last days I have been lacking inspiration(
> 
> If you saw this chapter earlier, when it was in Russian: Guys, I myself do not know why this chapter was published in Russian when I laid it out for the first time. When I checked everything was in order, but for some reason it turned out to be in Russian.  
> Special thanks to AnimeFan1995 for writing about this in the comments, you have no idea how grateful I am to you for that.


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